Page 66 of Devour
I have to do something before this gets messier. I know if it escalates, Dr. Eli won’t back down, but Luca has the upper hand. Even injured, he’s still dangerous in a fight. And his guards are just a shout away. If this turns violent, Dr. Eli will get hurt.
I can’t let that happen. I move quickly, stepping between them and pressing myself against Luca’s chest. I reach up and grab his face, trying to make him look at me. But he doesn’t budge.
“Baby, we were just talking. It’s nothing,” I say softly, trying to diffuse the tension. His eyes are still locked on Dr. Eli, their silent battle raging.
Then, without breaking eye contact, Luca growls, “I don’t think he knows who you belong to.”
Before I can respond, he grabs my hand and drags me toward the dressing room. Dr. Eli instinctively moves to stop him, but I shake my head at him, a silent plea not to intervene. I see the hesitation in his eyes, the concern, but he doesn’t follow.
The attendant looks shocked as Luca yanks the curtain closed behind us. The dressing room feels much smaller now, almost suffocating, with Luca’s solid frame pressing me against the mirror. His eyes gleam with something dark, something dangerous.
“Moan,” he commands.
“What?” I blink, startled. I heard him, but I’m confused.
“Moan like you do when I fuck you.”
Now I understand. I narrow my eyes. He’s in full alpha mode again, all dominance and ego. He wants to stake his claim, to remind everyone including Dr. Eli who I belong to.
If he thinks I’m going to scream, he’s got another thing coming. I am not embarrassing myself again like I did in his boardroom… not after his secretary walked in on us.
“No,” I say firmly, tilting my chin up in defiance. He looks at me with a raised eyebrow that says, are you sure you want to defy me right now? When I don’t reply, he takes my silence as a yes.
He spins me gently but firmly to face the mirror. His weight pins me against it—firm, but not enough to break it. Theglass looks sturdy. My chin is pressed flat to the surface, and I watch my breath fog up the mirror.
His hand starts to move up my dress. I try to bat it away, but it’s like trying to move a tree, it won’t budge.
He continues upward, inch by inch, until he reaches the edge of my panties. His fingers slide beneath the fabric until he touches my clit. I try to wiggle away, but all it does is rub me harder against him.
“You like that?” he murmurs.
“No.”
It’s as if denying him only makes him angrier. He furiously tweaks my clit, and I’m forced to stop pushing his hand away just to cup my mouth, muffling the sounds threatening to escape.
His fingers move from my clit to my pussy, and he slips two inside me, thrusting them in as deep as his long fingers can reach, then pulling them out, only to drive them back in again, over and over. My toes curl in my heeled sandals as I moan into my palm.
When he adds a third finger, I press my face harder into my hand, desperate to silence myself completely. But when he doesn’t get the reaction he wants, he withdraws his hand from my panties.
I watch him through the mirror as he licks my wetness off his fingers. I exhale a shaky breath, thinking—hoping—he’s finally done. I was wrong.
He grabs both my wrists and pins them above my head against the mirror with one hand. With the other, he drags the zipper of my dress down my back.
If we were in our bedroom or anywhere private, I might not have fought this hard. Sex, to me, belongs behind closed doors. But he doesn’t care. He wants them to hear. And that’swhat makes it worse. People are outside. Dr. Eli could still be out there.
He has my dress shoved to my waist already. Not knowing how else to get out of this, I said the only thing that came to mind. As he reached for my panties, about to pull them down, I blurted, “If you do this, I will hate you.”
That got his attention. He froze, hand paused mid-motion, as if weighing whether to keep going. I watched him through the mirror as his eyes bored into mine, dark and dangerous.
Then I said the words that cut deeper than any blade. “I will never love you.” It hit him like a shockwave.
He pulled back instantly. I didn’t even think it was possible to create space between us in such a cramped room, but he managed it.
When I turned my face, I saw the back of his head as he walked out, stepping carefully over the trail of discarded fabric. He yanked the curtain shut behind him.
I heard his footsteps and the low growl in his throat as he stormed off. He must’ve snapped at the attendant on his way out.
I knew I hurt him with my words. But it was either that or let him screw my brains out and walk out of here a mess, ashamed and wrecked. I pulled down my dress and began adjusting it.
